It's been a week since Barnes moved on to bigger and better things and slowly the hole in our lives starts to heal. It's going to be a very long time before I don't look for Barnes in the bathroom when I get up in the morning and on the bed when I turn out the light to go to sleep. Sometimes I feel he's still there, but he's not.

I dropped by the vet's office today to pick up Barnes's ashes to put on the shelf beside Simon, his litter mate (RIP Aug 21 2004). One day this spring, we'll plant a hydrangea in a sunny spot and use Simon and Barnes's ashes in the base. They both loved going outside so it only seems fit to have them lounging under a bush together, just like the good old days.

On the same day I heard the sad news about my friend Yvonne's dog, Carmel, I was "friended" on Facebook by Nadine Rosin who has written a book called The Healing Art of Pet Parenthood. I guess it was meant to be.

We emailed back and forth a little on pet loss and Nadine highlighted the following passage from her book:

"And then there was the inevitable, “So when are you going to get a new dog?” or after three weeks one friend asked, “Aren’t you over it yet?” and “You were lucky she lived as long as she did, you should be happy about that” and so on. Soon I learned that I could take better care of myself by screening all my calls and not even returning some of them.

A month ago, we received this desperate phone call from Suzie who told us that Pixie, her beloved Cavalier King Charles spaniel was hanging on to her life by a thread after experiencing "dry drowning" when playing with her daughter in a kiddy pool all afternoon.

She told us that after coming into the house from playing all afternoon, Pixie started coughing and wretching and became clearly in severe distress.